


Feverish

by makethestorylast



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Fever, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Medication, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makethestorylast/pseuds/makethestorylast
Summary: The #1 perk of being sick is having your dumbass boyfriend dote on you all day.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Feverish

**Author's Note:**

> CW // None

“I’m dying.”

Paul rolled his eyes. “Em, you’re not dying.”

She flopped back on the bed dramatically, sniffing through her incredibly stuffy nose and resting a hand on her forehead. 

“I am withering away. I feel terribly faint. I may not make it to the morning. I—”

“You’re going to be fine,” he said, barely holding back a smile. “Move your hand.”

Emma crossed her arms and glared at Paul playfully. “You’re no fun, you know that?” she asked, her voice hoarse and scratchy. 

“Do you want the washcloth or not?”

She scowled.

Paul bunched up the cold washcloth in his hand and gently pressed it to Emma’s forehead. She let out a little sigh and relaxed into the mattress. 

“I owe you my life.”

“I know.”

Paul stretched out the washcloth, folding it over and laying it across Emma’s forehead before getting back up, leaving a dent in the mattress by Emma’s side. She heard him fiddle with something nearby before the bed dipped beside her again. “When that warms up, tell me, okay? I have more fever reducer, you need to take it sometime within the hour.” He ran a gentle hand up and down her arm.

“Yes, Dr. Matthews,” she teased, her smile fading almost immediately after as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Emma flashed him a halfhearted smirk, and he added, “For real.”

She laughed weakly. “Like I got hit by a truck, what'dyou think?” She grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. “Thanks for staying with me. Really. I appreciate not having to wallow in my own self-pity alone.”

Paul didn’t respond, instead choosing to busy himself with the thermometer on their bedside table. He bundled up the washcloth and tossed it in the nearest hamper, resisting the urge to push it the rest of the way in when it landed on the very edge. Instead, he turned back to Emma and tapped her cheek gently.

“Temperature again, Em.” She rolled her eyes but let Paul put the thermometer in her mouth anyway.

When it finally beeped, Paul gently took it and squinted at the tiny screen. “100.2. Going down still, that’s good!”

Emma pushed herself upright. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, babe. Can I have the Tylenol now?”

“Oh, right.” Paul tipped two pills into her hand and passed her a half-full glass of water. She tipped her head back and drank the whole thing in one go, reaching to set the glass back on the table. She held out her arms, making little grabby motions with her hands. 

“Cuddles?” she asked with a little pout, not doing much to hide her laughter.

“You’re going to get me sick,” Paul complained, but he laid down next to her anyway, pulling her close. She rested her head on his chest, matching her breathing to the quiet thump of his heartbeat.

“And then _I_ get to spoil _you_. Win-win, right?” 

Paul let out a noncommittal grunt at that.

“Fine,” she mumbled, pressing her face into his chest. “I promise not to get you sick. Maybe. Probably.”

“Em...”

“What?” She lifted her head and grinned, meeting his eyes. “I’m just trying to be realistic.”

He didn’t respond, just pulled her back down to his chest and started running his fingers slowly through her hair, letting out a content hum when she melted into him.

“I love you, y’know? Like, a lot.” She felt around for his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

“I love you too, Em. Now get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when you need to take your temperature again, alright?”

“Mm.” Emma barely processed any of that, but she trusted Paul, so she closed her eyes and let herself relax, drifting off to the gentle thump of Paul’s heartbeat and the slow rise and fall of his breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to drop a comment/kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> <3
> 
> [Check out my other socials here!](https://linktr.ee/makethestorylast)


End file.
